David And Isabella
by Black Knight 03
Summary: For as long as he could remember, David had his life planned. But after questioning his plan, wondering if this is for him, David acts impulsively and throws his plan out the window for a chance at something else. [IG]
1. Rome

Disclaimer – Disney owns Lizzie McGuire

A/N - I've had this idea for awhile but it wasn't until I finally saw the movie, that I could actually see this plot in my head in order to write it. Thanks to Christylee for beta and editing this.

Part 1 – Rome

It was early in the morning when David woke from a restless sleep. _What the hell am I doing?_ he asked himself as he stared up at the ceiling. After a few minutes, realizing he wasn't going to fall back asleep, David carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the woman next to him. Pausing for a moment, he looked down and a small smile spread across his face as he watched her, curled up on the other side of the bed. Sighing softly, he tucked the covers back around her. _Just 'cause I can't sleep, doesn't mean she can't,_ he thought before gently kissing her forehead and stroking her soft brown hair.

After hunting around for a moment, he found his boxers and dress pants that he had been wearing earlier that evening. Putting them back on, he simply buttoned the pants, not bothering with the belt. Trying to be quiet, David walked across the room towards the large glass windows that lead out onto a balcony. Pausing only briefly to grab a dress shirt and throwing it on, he walked outside, carefully shutting the doors behind him.

Standing out on the balcony, ignoring the chill biting his bare skin, he looked out at the incredible view of the Mediterranean Sea. Watching the moonlight reflect across it, David tried to make sense of everything that happened in the past three months. _It's snowing in New York and here, there's not a cloud in the sky._

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, David took a deep breath and slowly let it out. _How did I get here? One moment, I was studying for finals, the next, I'm back in Italy, sharing a bed with a gorgeous woman._ He chuckled softly as he repeated that to himself.

She had just appeared at his door one day; no warning, she was just suddenly there. At first she had just said she was in town on business, but after a few days, she had admitted she was really there because she missed him. To say that admission threw him for a loop was an understatement.

Their first meeting had only lasted a few hours, at most, and then they were too busy with trying to stop Paolo. Then about a year later, she had come to visit Lizzie in Hill Ridge. During that two week visit, most of the time Lizzie was busy with something, and David was stuck showing her around. At first he felt like he was stuck babysitting, but the more time they spent together, the more they enjoyed themselves. By the time she left, the two had become friends.

She would come back again, senior year, and the two picked up where they had left off. While things stayed friendly, David could almost swear, at times, she was flirting with him. A simple touch, some banter, or a suggestive comment. But he had himself convinced that she was way out of his league, and that he was just imagining it. When she left, she kissed everyone on both cheeks, but with David she lingered a bit. It made him go red but again he deluded himself into thinking it was nothing.

They traded emails, and even rare phone calls whenever she was in the States, but he continued to think of their relationship as nothing other than friendship. Even if he was attracted to her.

He was in the middle of studying for his finals at NYU, around the end of November, when she showed up in his life again. This time sending his world on it's ear.

So lost in his memories, David didn't hear the doors behind him open and the person join him on the balcony.

He jumped a little as a pair of arms slid around him and wrapped themselves around his waist, and a soft, accented voice practically purred in his ear, "David. What are you doing out here?"

Every time she said his name like that, he couldn't keep that stupid, goofy grin off his face. Relaxing into her embrace, "Couldn't sleep, you?" he answered as he removed his hands from his pockets and rubbed them up and down her forearms.

"I rolled over and you were not there," she whispered against the back of his neck. "I do not like that," she teased.

David chuckled softly, "I'm sorry, Bella."

"You better be," she said with a small giggle, and then asked him, "What were you thinking about?"

David's grin widened, "Chinese food," he said sarcastically. With her lips pressed against his skin, he could feel her smile and knew she understood.

A few days into her visit they had gone out for Chinese, and while opening the fortune cookies at the end of dinner, she had told him she lied about being here because of business and she was really only here to see him, and not because she simply missed his friendship. Caught so off guard, if Isabella had told him to jump off a bridge, he probably would have. Luckily, she had only taken him to bed.

Whenever he could find the free time in between studying, he would go out with Isabella and he enjoyed being a couple with her, and not just cause of their physical relationship. While she did have an uncanny likeness to his first love, it was the differences between Isabella and Lizzie that really drew him in. He would often comment to himself that she resembled Lizzie but there was a bit of Miranda mixed in there too. Isabella was a lot more confident about herself than Lizzie was. She was also very aware of the world. While she was interested in entertainment gossip, much like Lizzie and Miranda, she could also talk about history, politics, and a variety of other subjects. They spent a lot of time talking, challenging each other's views.

Then a few days before she was originally supposed to leave, she dropped another bomb on him, she asked him to go back with her. In one of his rare moments, David acted impulsively and said yes. At the moment, there wasn't much to think about. Unfortunately, not everyone agreed with that.

She had stayed, delaying her trip home, and gone back to Hill Ridge with him so he could tell everyone what he was going to do. His parents hit the roof; they were not happy, to say the least, that he was going to be leaving school and much less going to Europe with a girl he had only started seeing. They were convinced that not only was he too young to do something like this, but if he left school, he wouldn't go back. He tried to convince them he was only taking some time off, a semester or two at most, but they wouldn't listen.

Lizzie, who he had barely talked to in the past year, suddenly became annoyingly possessive again, like she always did when another girl came between David and her. Ignoring the fact they hadn't dated since junior year. They got into a large argument and were currently not even talking to each other.

This all hurt him; he felt like the closest people to him were all turning their backs on him.

In all the questioning of his sanity, when he was seriously doubting everything, there had been one person who didn't make him feel like he was being a moron and that he wasn't throwing away years of preparation.

When he talked to Miranda, she had given him a sarcastic grin and told him, _You__ only live once._

After Christmas, and the hundredth fight about Isabella and Europe with his parents, David just packed and left. For once, he followed his heart instead of his mind. If everything blew up in his face, then so be it, but he had to live his own life and make his own mistakes.

It'd had now been a little over a month since he left, and while he missed his family and friends, he had to admit it had been great. While staying at Isabella's villa, a little ways outside Rome, she had taken him all over the place, to the more off the beat places he wouldn't normally have gone to, much less found. But slowly, and annoyingly, all the questions and doubts everyone had brought up, crept into his mind. Not being able to answer them was driving him crazy, and scaring him.

Then tonight they had attended a party thrown for Isabella's birthday. He suddenly felt like a very small fish in a huge ocean. Everyone looked down at him, judging him, and even though he couldn't understand much of what they said, he knew it wasn't good. While he didn't really care what they said, it did make him think that maybe Isabella could feel the same way. That helped intensify his doubts, and now, he couldn't stop worrying about it.

This was not lost on Isabella, who had sensed something was bothering him, and it made her worry. Tightening her hold his waist, "David?"

Turning around, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and looked into her big, brown eyes. "Why are you wasting your time with me? You're so out of my league."

"League?"

David tried to figure out how to explain the mess inside his head, "I don't fit in here. Look at your past boyfriends, I can't even compare to them. They had money, looks, influence. Hell, look at your friends tonight. I didn't understand everything they said but I know I was like a joke to them, and if those are your friends, I can't help but think of how you see me," he told her as looked down. "Is this a joke? Am I just keeping you company until the next rocker comes along?"

David felt her let go of his waist but then suddenly heard her swear in Italian before he felt the sting of her slapping him across the face. Jerking his head up in surprise to look at her while he held his jaw, he saw the anger written across her face.

"Joke?" she snapped at him, her accent getting thicker the angrier she got. While her English had gotten better, she still struggled with some words, and when her emotions went to extremes, her accent got thick and she would often slip from English to Italian.

For a moment, she started swearing at David in Italian. She was firing so rapidly, that he could only pick up a few words here and there, but he knew it wasn't good. Finally, running out of breath, Isabella paused as she took a deep breath. A little calmer, she continued in English, "This is no joke. Those are not my friends and you are so much more than those….those…," getting frustrated, "what's the word...passers?"

"Posers?"

Isabella nodded, "Yes, posers. They only hang around because I have money and am popular. They don't care about me and I don't care about them. I do care about you," she said as she poked him in the chest with her finger.

"But why?"

Her face softening, "Because you are you." When David gave her a confused look, she continued, "You are still the sweet, considerate, cute boy I first saw in that airport." She paused as she giggled softly as she remember the first time she saw him, sliding underneath the legs of one her publicists. "I like how you talk to me like I am normal person. How you tease me when I do something stupid." Isabella then stepped forward against his chest, to which David immediately wrapped his arms around her. "And I like how I feel when I'm with you. The singing, it is fun and I make a lot of money from it. But it is fleeting," she said, slowly looking up into his blue eyes. "I'd like to think that we are not."

Listening to her didn't make his fears go away but it made him stronger to face them. "I'd like to think that too. But, just say, what will we do if I go back to New York."

She grinned a little at him, "David, so many questions. When," she put a strong emphasis on when, like she planned on him going back to finish his degree, "you go back, I go too. I'm not saying goodbye to you again." Sliding her arms underneath the open shirt, she ran her hands up his back and nuzzled his neck.

David closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling, and finally relaxing a little. "Bella," he said softly as she started to kiss the nape of his neck.

Suddenly feeling her shiver in his arms, he opened his eyes to look at her. Just now he noticed that she was only wearing a bathrobe, and it barely fell to her knees. Feeling a very familiar feeling stir within him, he tried to contain it, as he looked at her in concern. "Cold?"

Isabella nodded with a small smile and withdrawing her arms from around him, she wrapped them around herself and rubbed her arms. As David started to take off his shirt to drape around her, Isabella stopped him as her smile widened. "I can think of a much better way to get warm," she said as she trailed a finger down his chest to his waist.

David mirrored her grin, "I am a bit cold." he said with a smug grin.

He watched as she walked back to the doors, loosening the knot of her robe. As it loosened, it started to slip of her shoulders and by the time she walked through the doors, she left the robe in the doorway. The goofy smile returning to David's face as Isabella glanced over her shoulder with a come hither look.

"Who am I to say no to the famous Isabella," he asked himself rhetorically as he quickly walked across the balcony and into the bedroom, closing the doors behind him.


	2. NYC

A/N – Thanks to the ladies, Jennifer10 and Christylee, for their betaing this thing for me. Instead of just creating a new story for this follow up, I just decided to create a new chapter. There might be one more part to this, but seeing as this took me almost two years to write and I have no ideas at the moment, who knows when I'll write it. I used an online translator for the Italian and I put the translations after the end.

Part 2 – NYC

As Isabella walked out of the audition, the sound of her high heels clicking against the floor drowned out her angry muttering. Once again, she had been turned down.

For the past year, since coming to New York City, Isabella had tried out for part after part. She had heard a myriad of excuses. They wanted a blonde. Her accent was too thick. She was not thin enough. Occasionally, she got something, but it would usually be because they were looking for a young Italian woman to play the part. _I swear,_ she fumed to herself, _I'm not doing another stupid pasta sauce commercial!_

"I'll show him a phony accent!" Isabella snarled under her breath as she shoved the front doors to the buildings open. In her latest audition, the director had accused her of using a bad Italian accent and advised her to lose it if she ever wished to become something in this business. Having already had enough of the director's holier-than-thou attitude and snide remarks, she snapped back in Italian that she was _in fact_ Italian, along with a few other choice words that were luckily said in another language. One the director obviously didn't understand.

Reaching into her purse, she quickly pulled out her cell phone with the intention of tearing into her so-called agent about another horrible audition. Problem was as she tried to turn it on, the screen flashed a message that there was no power and she need to recharge. Slamming the phone back into her purse and cursing the small black object, she began to wonder if she'd ever land a successful audition.

It wasn't so much the money, though that was nice, of course, but the pride. Her earnings from her years of singing had been saved and invested wisely. This attempt at acting was a new challenge, something Isabella had wanted to try even before she started singing.

As she walked towards the curb to hail a cab, a car came speeding around the corner in the opposite direction. It passed in front of Isabella, drove through a large puddle left by last night's rainstorm, and sent water flying and splashing all over.

Letting out an upset shriek as she felt the dirty water hit her, Isabella dreaded looking down at her shoes. She cringed as she noticed that the dirty water had not only stained portions of her light blue sun dress and dirtied her legs, but had ruined a very expensive pair of Jimmy Choos. Not sure whether to start crying or burst out swearing, she stomped to the curb and screamed, "Taxi!"

The only thing she wanted to do now was to go home and take a long bath.

Finally flagging down a taxi, it skid to a halt a few feet away from her. As she began to walk towards it, a middle-aged man sprinted from the other direction and quickly jumped in. When Isabella saw the man open the door of _her_ taxi, she began to run. But as she reached them, the taxi took off. In its wake, Isabella stood swearing violently in Italian.

Fuming now, Isabella quickly hailed another taxi. As she approached this cab, she glared dangerously at everyone around her, as if challenging anyone to just _try _and take it. She threw herself into the back seat, experiencing a rare moment of triumph in this otherwise dreadful day.

"Caberas Towers, 12th and 13th Street," she snapped at the poor driver. As the cab pulled away, Isabella let out a tired sigh, settling back against the weathered seat.

After a short ride through Manhattan, the cab came to a screeching halt at Caberas Towers. As Isabella hastily paid the driver, the doorman of her apartment complex approached and opened the door for her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Parichi," he greeted with a kind smile and a hand to help her as she exited the cab. As Isabella emerged, the older man took in the sight before him.

"It seems like you've seen better days," he said as they walked towards the front door while the cab sped off behind them.

Isabella rolled her eyes at the understatement and gave the man a forced smile as he opened the door for her. "Thank you."

Walking quickly into the awaiting elevator, she pressed the button for her floor. As the elevator began to ascend, she grabbed the railing, putting her weight on that arm, and used her free hand to run it through her dark hair.

When the elevator doors opened, she pushed herself forward and stumbled into the hallway. Walking the short distance to her front door, that bath was looking more and more appealing, and the daydream of it was quickly becoming more elaborate, with scented candles and bubbles. Digging her key out of her purse, Isabella unlocked the door and entered.

Unfortunately, the sight that greeted her set her on edge once again. Sprawled out on the couch, with laptop humming on the coffee table, surrounded by numerous open books, open soda cans and a bag of chips, there sat her boyfriend, David Gordon, apparently oblivious of the mess around him.

Glancing up from the screen, Gordo grinned. "Ciao, Bella."

Letting out an exasperated whimper, Isabella dropped her purse on a chair, instantly grabbing the cans and bag of chips from the table. Gordo curiously watched as she stomped into the kitchen, muttering, "All I ask, is for him to clean up, and what do I find? A _beegger_ mess!"

Isabella had disappeared into the kitchen, and Gordo sat on the couch, pondering her strange behavior, when suddenly, he heard her yell his name.

"David!"

With a groan and rolling his eyes, he pushed himself up off the couch and headed into the kitchen. "What's up?" he asked casually, looking around for something out of place.

"_What_ is this?" she snapped, tossing the cans into a recycling bin and then pointing at the counter top.

"A plate?"

"Did you not understand what I ask you to do today?" Isabella yelled at him, her accent becoming more pronounced. "All I ask you is to clean up the apartment a little. È quello così duro? Your parents, they will be here in a few hours. It is already now six months before they are talking to us again. I am not needing another reason for them to hate me!"

Eighteen months ago, when David had chosen to go out with Isabella, it had caused a deep rift in the Gordon family. His parents felt he was throwing away his future for a pretty face. They wouldn't believe that he intended to go back to school eventually. Twelve months ago, at Isabella's urging, the couple moved to New York City and Gordo re-enrolled at NYU to finish his degree. After completing his first semester back, Isabella convinced Gordo to reach out to his parents. Even though Gordo couldn't care less, Isabella wanted his parents' acceptance. She loved Gordo and wanted to be a part of his family. For good or bad, it lead to her going through great strains in showing she was more than just some pretty little vapid European pop-star.

"It's just a plate," Gordo said in his defense. "It'll take like five seconds to wash."

With logic already thrown out the window, Isabella just kept going. "That's not the point!... I ask-a you to clean up and I find a mess in the living room and another in the kitchen. Could you not do dees one thing-a for me?"

"Isabella," he tired to reason. "I told you that I need to finish my report because it's due Monday. I made a sandwich for lunch and used a plate. I was planning on washing the dish and cleaning up the couch when I finished…. I have maybe another hour and then I'll be finished." He then stepped on a proverbial landmine. "Besides, it'll take me little more than an hour to get ready. We have three, maybe four hours until my parents get here. It'll take you _at least_ that long to finish getting ready---" Gordo was quickly cut off as Isabella finally just lost it.

"You insensitive… little… _scatto_!" she snapped, fighting to keep her composure.

"What?" Gordo asked defensively. If he hadn't realized it before, he knew now that Isabella was beyond annoyed. The thicker her accent, the angrier or upset she was, and when she began to favor speaking in Italian over English, he knew it was time to seek shelter.

Gordo instinctively winced as he saw Isabella take a deep breath, and then he was barraged in Italian by her sharp tongue. Barely catching a few words, he knew simply by her expressions and body language that she was ripping him a new one. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, Isabella turned on her heel and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Hell," Gordo muttered under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. Looking at the closed bedroom door for a moment, he let out a breath before turning to the sink and washing the lone plate. Shrugging to himself, he thought, _Maybe__ this is more important to her than I realized._

Everyone had said he was being reckless and crazy, throwing away his future on something that might not last. But he and Isabella had proven them wrong. During their time in Europe, he had been behind her, supporting her. Then she had come to him the middle of last summer, when she wanted them to move to New York, for him to finish his degree. He well remembered her proclaiming, _I vill not be someone's sugar cookie._

He hadn't meant to laugh, but it just came out. _That's Sugar Mama,_ he had explained.

_Vhatever_, she had fired back with a teasing grin.

Thinking back, he couldn't help but smile. _Her English is getting better. A hell of a lot better than my Italian. Sometimes, I barely even notice her accent._ He then frowned a little, and sighed. _Shame._

Isabella and Lizzie may have looked like twins, but personality-wise, they were vastly different. On an average day, Isabella was calm, usually rational, a very creative person. As much time as the physical side of their relationship dominated, it was dwarfed by the time they spent intellectually. Isabella would often sit, listening to Gordo ramble on about different subjects, and she would fire back with her own opinions, questions, or simply a small show of support.

Also, Gordo often felt there was a bit of Miranda thrown into the mix that made up his Bella. Miranda had been a lifeline the past year and a half. Whenever Gordo would doubt his sanity, his talks with her would bring him around. The two old friends had always had a teasing, sarcastic, banter about them. With Isabella, he seemed to share that same banter, just with her, it had more of a flirty edge to it.

As he wiped the dish and put it away, he glanced back at the closed door, thinking, _I'll finish my report and give her some time to cool off. _

About a half an hour later, Gordo was finishing his report when he heard the bedroom door open. He could hear Isabella's walk across the floor and then feel her weight on the other end of the couch. Looking over his laptop, he found Isabella curled up on the other end of the couch wearing a t-shirt and black shorts. Her head rested on the back of the couch, legs tucked underneath her, hands in her lap, and a tired expression on her face. Saving his work and shutting the laptop off, Gordo put it aside on the coffee table. Opening up his arms, he invited, "Come here."

Isabella quickly moved into his lap, resting against his chest, as Gordo wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't get the part," she said softly.

"I'm sorry."

"Then some _scatto_ sped through a puddle soaking my new Jimmy Choos," she pouted. "Then another one stole my cab."

Gordo hugged her and rubbed her arm. "I'm sorry I took your head off," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"It's okay. You had a rough day." Gordo then smiled smugly as he said, "_La mia rapa piccola bella._"

Isabella picked her head up and looked at him curiously for a moment. As Gordo looked back, confused, she grinned and started to giggle loudly. "You… just called me… a vegetable." Gordo's cheeks blushing just caused Isabella to giggle harder.

"I can speak fluent English… and you can barely string together… a sentence in Italian," she teased. Gordo quickly pulled her tight, intent on tickling her sides, but Isabella had other ideas. Quickly grabbing the back of his head, she turned it just right, then pressed her lips hard against his.

Pulling back, Gordo could feel his self-control heading south. "What about my parents? We still have to get ready," he said hoarsely, and a bit more huskily then he intended.

With a deviant glint in her eyes, Isabella let her free hand travel across his chest. "I think ve have-a time," she purred softly. "My boyfriend, he vonce told me, if someone is not liking you for who you are, then they are not worth the time to impress. You agree…no?"

He gave her his patent sideways grin in response. _Well,_ _I am usually right,_ he thought to himself sarcastically. Then his thoughts became less coherent as Isabella began her ministrations upon body.

A few hours, and two quick showers later, Isabella stood nervously as the intercom rang. Gordo gave her a smile, hoping to give her some encouragement, as he answered.

Isabella didn't even hear him speak, as she was trying to keep herself calm. "David?"

"It'll be alright," he assured her. "Just remember, no matter what happens, I love you."

"I love you too," she told him, just before there was a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, she nodded an okay to Gordo. As he moved to answer the door, Isabella watched him.

_No matter what happens, he loves me,_ she thought with a smile. _I will make him proud, and show his parents that I am _the_ woman for their son._

A/N 2 – Translations :

1) È quello così duro? Is that so hard?

2) scatto jerk

3) La mia rapa piccola bella. My beautiful little turnip.


End file.
